


666

by perennials



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Angels & Demons, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, author is not available for comment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-01
Updated: 2020-03-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:02:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22973671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/perennials/pseuds/perennials
Summary: Miya Atsumu experiences Fear.
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Miya Atsumu
Comments: 22
Kudos: 240





	666

**Author's Note:**

  * For [majunju](https://archiveofourown.org/users/majunju/gifts).



> inspired by [june's incredible big dick energy art](https://twitter.com/atsuhinas/status/1233914753015136257)

His boss insists Atsumu wear a business suit for professional purposes, but he doesn’t insist Atsumu do the nice thing and wear a starched shirt underneath so Atsumu decides to do the asshole thing and wear nothing. He spends a six-figure amount on a bespoke suit from Ginza. He spends a five-figure amount on initials embroidery. He spends an eight-figure amount on a pair of gold cufflinks and a silk tie and patented leather shoes and puts the entire bill on his boss’s credit card. Then he takes the Yamanote line to Shibuya to meet a client.

“That’s not how you tie a tie,” Hinata Shouyou says, frowning.

Atsumu leans across their tiny Starbucks booth. He props his elbows on the table and arches his brow.

“Got a problem, angelcakes?”

“Yes,” Hinata says earnestly. “My client. Your tie.”

“You mean, my client.”

“Okay. Your client. Your tie.”

Atsumu sighs. “Pick a problem, cherub. You can't solve both.”

Hinata leans across their tiny Starbucks booth as well. He has to stand up in his seat to do this. His halo shivers slightly as he moves into Atsumu’s godforsaken personal space. The balance of good and bad in the third-floor shopping mall Starbucks begins to waver.

“You’re an asshole,” he declares.

Atsumu’s client arrives. Atsumu shoves Hinata out of the booth because he’s an asshole. He has a fifteen-minute conversation with a mousy twenty-eight-year-old salaryman about gacha games and Japan’s rotten work culture and a deeply unfulfilled childhood. He produces a contract from the front pocket of his bespoke six-figure suit from Ginza. The salaryman produces a ballpoint pen from the front pocket of his Uniqlo jacket. He signs it.

“Just like that?” Hinata watches the man go reproachfully.

“Just like that,” Atsumu parrots back. He checks his pocket watch. Hinata pouts at him. He slips his pocket watch back in his suit.

“Pouting, Shouyou.”

“I didn’t say you could call me Shouyou.”

“Then would you prefer angelcakes?”

“No.”

“Honeypie?”

“No.” Hinata pouts harder. “They all suck.”

“Then what am I supposed to do?”

Hinata pauses thoughtfully. He reaches for Atsumu’s tie. The balance of good and evil in the third-floor shopping mall Starbucks collapses. All the faucets in the third-floor bathroom explode.

Hinata leans in with a mouthful of heady heavenly perfume. “How about this. You don’t do anything.”

  
::

  
His boss insists he wear a business suit for professional purposes so in an act of rebellion he decides to wear a business suit and nothing else. He wants to be cool about this entire thing; he’s a demon after all. Demons are supposed to talk to you about cardinal sin and shit. Atsumu prides himself on being knowledgeable about cardinal sin. He’s been alive for three thousand years. In that time he’s dated a hundred and eight demons and three fallen angels and the supreme demon overlord, if you count drunken one-night stands on New Year’s Eve. There’s a reason he has a five-star average rating on the SoulMart mobile app. Miya Atsumu gets the job done.

Hinata Shouyou is two thousand this year. His clients keep getting fucked over by Atsumu’s devilishly good ratings on the SoulMart mobile app. He doesn’t have a bespoke suit from Ginza or gold cufflinks or patented leather shoes. He does not get the job done.

He does, however, know how to tie a tie.

“This is extremely unangelic of you,” Atsumu observes. He’s backed up against one of the exploding sinks in the third-floor bathroom. He is extremely wet. Hinata has a knee between his legs and Atsumu’s silk tie held loosely in his fist.

Hinata shrugs. “You’re not a client. If you die that’s not my problem.”

“Aa. You’re going to kill me?”

“No, no.” Hinata removes the tie from around Atsumu’s neck. He reaches behind him and fastens it around Atsumu’s wrists instead. He works quickly and efficiently. Atsumu experiences Fear.

A big, radiant smile. Soft and earnest and warm enough to melt even the coldest mountains in Hell. Pretty fucking gorgeous, all things considered.

“I wouldn’t do that. I’m an angel, remember?”

  
::

  
The wonderful thing about wearing nothing under a six-figure bespoke suit from Ginza is that once you take it off, you’re done. There’s nothing left between you and the dreadful sinful mess of the human world. You could be stabbed in the chest with a cake knife. You could buy a cake knife. You could be stabbed in the chest. The options are endless.

Not that Hinata Shouyou stabs Atsumu with anything. Hinata Shouyou is an angel. He’s supposed to be nice and holy and shit and he’s been kind enough to share his repertoire of elaborate tie-tying techniques with Atsumu.

Holy shit. It’s a goddamn pity he can’t move.

“Are you gonna untie me anytime soon?” he asks timidly.

Hinata hums against his skin. “Do I have to?”

“No. I mean. Yes.”

“You don’t have rights right now,” Hinata reminds him. He bites Atsumu’s earlobe just above his second piercing to emphasize this. Atsumu’s soul crawls out of his three-thousand-year-old body and begins to perform an interpretive dance from 800 BC. It composes several classical music pieces.

“Jesus Christ,” he breathes.

His suit is crumpled in the flooded sink beside them. Their shoes are losing traction on the slippery tiled floor. Everything is wet.

“I didn’t take you to be religious,” Hinata laughs, and proceeds to do things to Atsumu the three-thousand-year-old demon from Hell that he is confident he will never be able to talk about on his resume.

  
::

  
They destroy the bathroom. He puts the bill on his boss’s credit card.

**Author's Note:**

> talk to me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/nikiforcvs) or [tumblr](http://corpsentry.tumblr.com/)
> 
> i saw june's art on my tl and immediately had a reaction so bad i had to stand up and walk into my living room and stare at the standing fan for three hours. just look at it. atsumu's 35 piercings. hinata's friggin expression. atsumu's stupid fucking shirtless suit look. it's precious. i want to eat it. please understand that this was written while the author was possessed by a cryptid from the 3rd circle of hell. it is Not polished or sexy or anything. it is a work of Passion  
> thank you for reading my work of Passion. if you enjoyed it please let me know via the kudos or comments buttons, but only if it sparks you joy. be well dear readers and friends. i will be on twitter because i have been possessed by a cryptid from the 3rd circle of hell
> 
> have a good one


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